Posts Tagged ‘Russia’

PutinOne might imagine a scene on the floor of the United Nations where diplomats representing combatants of either side of the Russo-Yank rivalry have their words interpreted for the French Delegation who hear the tits for tats of “Ta Gueule!” responded with a “Casse-toi!” before being trumped with “Nique ta mere!” Putting all of the buggering of mother suggestions aside, the gloves have come off between rival empires in the wake of the FIFA corruption investigation.

It all began when the United States decided to uncover how the hell Qatar, a fossil-fuel enriched sandbox existing along the Persian Gulf as a mole in the back of Saudi Arabia, was granted the rights to host the 2022 World Cup. Qatar is such a literal hell-scape, the preparations for the World Cup games have claimed the lives of thousands of migrant workers (aka Nepalese slave labor) from the brutal desert conditions with thousands of more to come leading up to 2022. How did Qatar, a non-entity in the soccer world until it began buying English Premier teams, win the right to host the games? This was the question America’s Federal Bureau of bullshit sought to answer. What the FBI learned was that FIFA, the soccer plutocracy, is as shifty as a Chicago Alderman learning to drive. What the FBI also learned is FIFA had soiled bedmates with similar corrupt blood running through their villainous veins: mainly Russian Oligarchs and the Qatari Royals, each of whom bribed their way to claiming their rights to host the games. As the investigation proceeds, all is primordial dew-level CHAOS in soccer (aka “football” outside North America) as the rights to host the 2018 and 2022 World Cup are suddenly in question, which means billions of dollars could slip through the fingers of the respective host nations, Russia and Qatar.

Sepp Blatter, "that's the ticket!"

Sepp Blatter, “that’s the ticket!”

Russia, to say the least, is pissed. You can imagine Vlad Putin recalling the zillions of rubles he shoved up FIFA President Sepp Blatter’s ass and shrugging to the international press, “Hey Brah, what happens in Zurich stays in Zurich.” Bribery in soccer, after all, is as natural as a bonobo monkey masturbating seven times a day. WTF FBI? Step off my dick! Vlad Putin has gone on the passive-aggressive offensive and activated his crony, Vladimir Markin, the spokesman for Russia’s own investigative bureau, who is teasing the possibility of launching an investigation into American claims of landing on the moon sometime 45 years ago. Tits for Tats: America questions Russia’s scruples in sports bribery and now Russia is asking America for moon receipts in a lunar audit.

In boxing, we would call this a shot below the belt. I mean, you’re punching at something sacred.

Regardless of America’s current position in the World’s Psyche as “Earth Police” and playing “The Game of Drones”, the United States of America does hold historic relevance as the only society in recorded* history to ever put a boot-print on the moon.

NOTE: history is as legit as its records and it is very possible there have been prior Earth-based peoples who have visited the moon and that this information has been buried, either literally or figuratively.

For Russia to challenge the lunar landings now is suspect, given the Soviets didn’t push the “Moon Landing was a Hoax” theory during the Cold War when such propaganda was worth the weight of a dozen Caucasus wet nurses. Why now? Internet. Russia feels scorned and on the internet there exists a plethora, nay! a fucking avalanche of bullshit about everything. Especially Moon Landing Hoaxes.

We are not contending that [the United States] did not fly [to the moon], and simply made a film about it. But all of these scientific — or perhaps cultural — artifacts are part of the legacy of humanity, and their disappearance without a trace is our common loss. An investigation will reveal what happened. – Vladimir Markin

Vlad Markin’s investigative teaser isn’t necessarily going to challenge history insomuch as ask “where are all the fucking moon rocks?” Good question. NASA? Where are all the moon rocks? Stolen by disenfranchised janitors who made a profit over the internet? Yeah, maybe.

Location of the moon rocks may be the second curiosity voiced by the public in this latest slate of questioning. With the conspiracy status set to red, the world will take a second glance at the possibility the United States did hoax the whole “Giant step for mankind.” As a conspiracy theorist (aka conspiracist as I am being told to call myself by the web-savvy public), I have conducted my own floccinaucinihilipilification by meandering through yesterday’s rejectamenta of alternate hypotheses. I have found a few things worthy of note…

In the Hoax discussion, the first question is what would be the point in NASA/America faking the moon landings? First – as propaganda against the Soviets during the Cold War. Second – NASA wanted to justify its own existence. Third – JFK guaranteed it would happen within the decade.

Okay, fine.

But why would anyone doubt American claims, generally? Foremost – no one else has managed to do it, including the United States, in decades. Putting people on rockets is a bad idea, just look at Apollo 1, Challenger or Columbia missions. China and Europe have space programs, but all they have gotten on our sacred satellite is robots.

My conclusion as a skeptic of historic record is still in process; however I am leaning towards “nailed it!” I believe the risk/reward for getting humans on the moon is so great it has not been worth our continued efforts to go all the damn way to the moon to observe what happens when you drop a feather and hammer at the same time. So yes, I believe Armstrong walked on the moon. We can see from Earth erect flags and astronaut tracks, basically enough evidence to suggest contact.

However, I also believe the filming of the moon landings was faked. This is an entirely different conversation, however, and one I do acknowledge I now owe the public. In due time, I will elaborate.

IN SUMMATION

It is clear Russia is on a public relations tear and it will be interesting to see what they come up with next. If their goal is to make their FIFA scandal seem commonplace, who knows what sort of KGB archives they might open up to discredit the West or what sort of secrets they might coerce out of Ed Snowden? It could be an entertaining summer.

Be on the watch… If the FBI does not strong-arm FIFA into naming a 2018 replacement as host of the World Cup, then we can rest assured that Russia does have a secret they are blackmailing Washington on. One could only imagine what that might be!!! JFK assassination details, 9/11 intelligence, UFO technology, the retirement home of Elvis?

Yeah the Russians are here. I mean, they’re everywhere, but especially in Nashville.

– Layla Santana Crow

NASHVILLE, Tenn

Paranoia is a cottage industry in Tennessee where there exists a strange stew of Revelators, Second-Comers, Doomsday-preppers, bootleggers and coonskin-capped militiamen cooked together by the overhead high-voltage power lines running roughshod through the hinterlands. None of the above characters, however, have cornered the Russophobic market in these foothills like Texan native, Layla Santana Crow. In short time, Layla has become an urban myth in Nashville; spoken of, yet rarely seen and when seen, the witness is left dumbstruck enough to be certified as a hysteric. The going wisdom is to not seek out Layla Santana Crow because, sooner or later, she will find you.

I flew into Nashville beside a rhinestone and sequin-bedazzled woman who smelled like a duty-free store (a mélange of perfume samples with a splash of spilt single-malt) who had heard of Layla Santana Crow. Legend had it, or so conveyed my partner-in-transit, Layla had two wolves smuggled from Siberia who could smell Russians from a mile away.

If you ask the pit-boss behind the counter at the airport pork-rib depot, he will tell you that seeking out Layla Santana Crow is akin to dressing up a possum for Sunday service, which meant, amongst other things, updating my last will and testament and grabbing a shovel to bury good intentions.

If you weave your way through the Papists and Baptists of Sunday morning (do avoid the dressed-up possums) while inquiring laypersons of the aforementioned Layla, more than one will ask if your head had been touched without specifying by whom. “Touched by God, son.” One wizened miser clarified while a spinster spoke in condescendingly sympathetic tones, “Bless your heart.” They once knew of a fella like me, more or less bearded, who went looking for “Leah Crow” and when he laid eyes on her he burst into flames. Spontaneous combustion: one moment pyrophoric hipster, the next – poof – ashes. Dust to dust, etcetera.

And yet, into the foothills of Tennessee I sought her, this Layla Santana Crow…

Layla Santana Crow confronts Vic, "were you followed?"

Layla Santana Crow confronts Vic, “were you followed?”

Assuming the identity of my alias, Bucky Swoon, Esq., I tracked down Layla Santana Crow’s whereabouts to a jazz club this side of Ghost Creek where she was holding court amongst the homegrown moonshiners and imported bourgeois from the Atlantic seaboard. The Ghost Creek Jazz Club was a cigar bar which practiced ventilation via osmosis (absorption through the cement walls) and it wasn’t until I kneeled somewhere between sax and trombone before I had any visibility beyond four inches. Scanning the knee-scape, I found a high-density of sophisticated man-slacks near the bar and rightly assumed it to be the compilation of Layla Santana Crow admirers. Betwixt the sophisticated slacks, I deduced, sat the spy-huntress, herself. Her entourage of admirers, asthmatic and arrhythmic (bouncing in-and-out-of-sync to the jazz), was easily dispersed when I began accidentally lighting their silken neckties afire instead of my own cigar. While the fog refused to clear and her face wasn’t quite visible as I neared, the sheer radiance of Layla Santana Crow created a halo in the suspended cigar smoke, providing her more of a celestial quality than even I was accustomed to.

“Hey Vic.” She spoke non-committal, stoic-even, seeing through the smoke and past the Bucky alias in spite of the mustache I had groomed for the occasion. “Were you followed?”

Russian Spies in America

The trial of Igor Sporyshev, the Russian banker in New York who was attempting to funnel financial information back to the Kremlin, reminded Layla Santana Crow of the unearthed spies of her youth. Specifically, Layla was reminded of Anna Chapman, circa 2010 (aye, Layla is a bit younger than us Cold War kids), the sexy spy who had infiltrated New York high society prior to being outted and who has become a celebrity in Moscow after the United States performed a spy-swap with Putin.

Anna Chapman and Igor Sporyshev: Neo-Cold War Russian Spies

Anna Chapman and Igor Sporyshev: Neo-Cold War Russian Spies

“Anna Chapman is an example of how the Kremlin is attempting to spy on America – by infiltrating our social crème de la crème. Yeah, so this guy Igor, the banker, was a fat a-hole, but he was still trying to get American coeds to act as spies for Russia.” Layla Santana Crow explained. “Russia is going straight to the well for their intelligence: they are spying on the housewives of Washington and New York. I bet they have analysts in Havana watching North American television for TMZ and every reality show just for the gossip.”

Indeed, contemporary Russian spies might have a different modus operandi than former generations, but do not doubt their malice for a modicum of a second as their Grand Master is still Vlad “the Paler” Putin, formerly of the KGB. Today’s Russian spies might be educated on episodes of Saved By The Bell, but they are raised on deception and sabotage from the first day they suckle upon the vodka-infused milk of the teat of Mother Russia. It may be a mafia state which governs the Russian people, but its spies are nostalgic for the old Soviet Empire and eager to fulfill a vendetta against the West, regardless of the different ideologies at play during the chilling 20th Century schism. Whether you believe the Cold War was Democracy vs. Totalitarianism or Capitalism vs. Communism or the Establishment vs. Populism, you could boil the fat out of the whole brouhaha into being nothing more than an imperial gun show. 2015 or 1965, it makes no difference.

Russian Spies in Tennessee?

Russians love Country Music and they see Nashville as the gateway to the soul of America. There is nothing more American than a sorrow-drunken cowboy dancing in his boots and there is nothing more Russian than a bare-chested Premier riding a bear as he invades the Ukraine. The second-most Russian thing, however, is a sorrow-drunken Cossack dancing in his boots.

Cossacks are just Cowboys born of another  mother

Cossacks are just Cowboys born of another mother

“For Russian spies whose first language is not English…” Layla Santana Crow told me over lunch at a fashionable East Nashville burger bar. “They can hide their Caucus accent if they enunciate with a southern drawl. It is a lot easier for a spy to acclimate into the Country Western scene, than say, Hip-Hop or Hipster, because the twang accent is easy to emulate and the music lyrics describe exactly how a countryperson must live: a steady dose of religion, alcohol, good times and sorrow.”

“Country music lacks the ambiguity of alternative hipster shit.” Cyrus Lee Hancock, Layla’s head of security, chimed in. “Whether it is a song about drinking liquor before beer or a song about falling in love at night school while pursuing your GED, country music gets to the point. If a Russian spy has to lie about where he was on the night of August 5th at approximately 2200 hours, he can just quote his favorite country song, ‘I was shooting Fireball while lying in the bed of my pickup truck, looking at a picture of Rhonda Sue who was known as being good for uhhh luck.”

“In short, Russians are already half-hillbilly and it is easy enough to fake the rest.” Layla concluded.

Spy-Hunting in Nashville

Layla Santana Crow was neither raised by wolves nor does she own any. Instead, she has a pair of German Shepherds (one is named after a Top-Gun character, another after a salad) who, allegedly, can smell borscht at a hundred yards. It helps her sleep at night.

“Potential Ruby at twelve o’clock with the shaven head and bear-tooth necklace.” Layla spoke between bites of gluten-free biomass as we lunched at the recycled pharmacy on the eastside. “His front teeth are fake, which is common among Rubies who spend their youth getting head-butted and/or falling on their face after draining too many vodka bottles.”

“Or he’s just a dirty hipster with a smack problem.” Security Chief Cyrus Lee pitched-in. “Heroin isn’t good for the chompers.”

“What about the goon sisters over there?” I mentioned with a head nod. “These guys are a pair of ‘Rubies’ if I have ever seen one.”

“Doom and gloom.” Layla Santana Crow named the untoward thugs. “And they’ve pancake batter on their faces to disguise the burst blood vessels in their noses. Another sign of a Ruby. Vic, take a picture of us and be sure to frame the image with the goon sisters in the background so I can add to the database.”

Cyrus Lee and Layla in the foreground with the Goon Sisters in the background

Cyrus Lee and Layla in the foreground with the Goon Sisters in the background

One of the surefire ways to out a Ruby (Layla’s codeword for “Russian Spy”) is to approach one on the sly and engage them with a joke in Russian. Neither Layla nor her head of security speak Russian, but they can sound out the words. For example, Cyrus Lee Hancock will follow a potential Ruby into the bathroom and while poised before the latrines quip, g’p-ka nush-nee which often gets a chuckle out of anyone who understands Russian and who agrees it smells like horse stables are near. At high society events, Layla, dressed to the nines without doubt, will approach a Ruby at the bar and order a double-vodka tonic. She isn’t the greatest fan of vodka, but the order alone will perk up the ears of any Russian. Layla will then take a sip and mention how it tastes like home, but instead of speaking English, she’ll mumble f’vus ga doma. When the Ruby’s eyes light up, the trap is snared.

“Vic, discreetly take a picture of our beers and be sure to focus on the tracksuit.” Layla said. “Only a Ruby would wear a tracksuit that expensive and have such a horrid taste in foot attire.”

The Speakeasy

We parked somewhere downtown, or so I judged by the street traffic I heard. It wasn’t until Layla whispered the password du jour to the doorman and we were safely in the basement (or the attic, I was a bit dizzy) before Cyrus Lee Hancock removed the blindfold from my gourde, granting me sight. We were in a speakeasy. Despite the hordes of desperate dipsomaniacs begging for a seat, there was a table already reserved for Layla and her plus 2. There was nothing on the menu necessarily verboten and we weren’t here for the $12 Dark & Stormy. This speakeasy was a hub of clandestine activity: political hitmen extracted bribes beneath table tops, a Rosicrucian proselytized a defrocked priest, a guitarist sold his soul to the agent who picked him up at the crossroads and some half-naked pagans prostrated themselves before a boar’s head. It was here, Layla Santana Crow surmised, the Russian sleeper agents would meet their handlers over nefarious naval-strength rum drinks.

Some might call Layla’s spy-hunting senseless fear-mongering. She calls it proactive counterintelligence. All it takes is a few firebrand Neo-Soviets to become embedded in Nashville’s Country Music scene and then if there is ever a Russian invasion (perhaps through Canada once the Arctic melts), Putin’s conquerors will have a Nashville fifth column of sympathizers at the ready. As we finished our drinks at the speakeasy, I mentioned to Layla my opinion on the greater threats of American-bred spies hired by the Qatari Royals and, even worse, the largest intelligence network in the world according the late Kyril Bonfiglioli – the International Chinese Waiter Union.

Layla Santana Crow, in the unsettling way in which she comes out of her thousand-yard stare to refocus locally upon your face, tilted her head ever so slightly before finally responding to my comments. “Really, Vic? Paranoid much?”

See also…
***Layla on the Illuminati’s influence of Hip-Hop***

History is the biographical shadow play on the cave wall of a manic, semi-self-aware species of ape dancing in front of the fire. History is decided by the victors, mere lipstick applied to the slaughtered pigs of the defeated. History is a child backing away from the broken cookie jar. Ambrose Bierce defined history as “An account mostly false, of events mostly unimportant, which are brought about by rulers mostly knaves, and soldiers mostly fools.” As flawed as the books may be, history does reflect our future by highlighting patterns from the past. Marx said history repeats itself as farce, but then what does farce repeat itself as?

The world only seems to be coming apart at the seams. In reality, it is Sweeps Week as reruns of ancient feuds are played out LIVE! on our cable news networks. Japan has militarized itself for the first time since the last world war in order to deal with Chinese pursuits in the South China Sea. Saudi Arabia and Iran are fighting a proxy Sunni v Shia war in the apocalyptic playground of Eastern Syria and Western Iraq as the established tyrant Assad has cried havoc! and ISIS lets slip the dogs of war. Russia had a fine winter harvest, hosting the Olympic Games and annexing Crimea as Vlad Putin stabbed his arse with another syringe of testosterone. In the Holy Land, Hamas defied their will to live and Israel rained a plague of hellfire down on Palestine.

And then Malaysia Flight MH17 was shot down over the Ukraine by pro-Russia rebels. Thoughts of the USS Maine (1898, Cuba), the HMS Lusitania (1915, North Atlantic), and the USS Maddox (1964, Gulf of Tonkin) come to mind as war inducing catalysts. I cannot help but compare 1914 with 2014; 100 years ago complicated alliances and a tinderbox of ethnic tensions brought about the Great War. Fortunately, for the purpose of this discussion, an old colleague was in Casablanca and available to help sort through the madness.

CASABLANCA, Morocco

Jojo, the German bankster, sat beside me in the dark confines of the Rialto Theatre in Casa’s Art Deco district. I apologized for my slurred speech; I was as hung-over as a drowned parrot after spending the last forty hours in a deep, brooding drunk with my Aussie friends in Rabat after we learned one of our own was aboard the MH17 flight (and this is the last I will speak to that; apologies, but it is too acute that I dare not bare it). I didn’t give Jojo the background into my state and he would have been disinterested anyway. I asked him, if history repeats itself as farce, what does farce repeat itself as…

Jojo emitted a condescending snort of amusement, scratched his chin and delivered a speech too Shakespearean and academic for me to digest on a blackened liver, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream leads to The Winter’s Tale, but all circles back, eventually, to Titus Andronicus: a bloodbath that would consume the complacent.”

Paranoid Profile: Jojo, the German

I last saw Jojo in Split, Croatia, when he was working as an advisor in Zagreb towards Croatian ambitions to join the European Union. He was a married family man, then, with a profound respect for the double-jointed hips of the sashaying local broads. Ours was a discussion, at length, into the last hundred years of conspiracies in the Balkans. In 2014, Jojo was semi-retired, living in Basel, Switzerland, with a predilection for absinthe, fairly off the radar, yet within striking distance to Zurich or Geneva should his services be required. He had re-branded himself as a backroom theoretical rogue economist for hire to postulate pseudo-cyber/economic warfare scenarios. He was anti-IMF, anti-World Bank and quite the historian. He rotated between mistresses and in 2013 attempted to negotiate the American citizenship of a Belarussian 22 year-old (younger sister of a friend of a mistress) by marrying her off to yours truly – Vic Neverman. I was… ‘open’ to the idea until Jojo’s mistress made hasenpfeffer out of his pet in retaliation for his dalliances.

“I hate this city.” Jojo sneered. “No history, just filth. My last time here, Casablanca 1987, I come to this theatre, Rialto, to see ‘The Ice Pirates’ movie which starred Robert Ulrich (not to mention future Hellboy & SOA star Ron Perlman). Half of the movie is blurredness censorship. Moroccans disrespect the bare thighs of Angelica Huston, though a still-unknown Mary Crosby is delectable. Much unfortunate.”

I offered a second venue, literally a block away: Petit Poucet, a pre-war bar built by the Franks, it was a cultural icon. Humphrey Bogart’s Casablanca was a bullshit Hollywood set; Petit Poucet was the true mid-century representation of the waning years of French occupation – Morocco’s own version of La Belle Epoque, indeed. Petit Poucet also had kindly grandfatherly barkeeps who smiled upon my arrival, clearing off a spot at the bar and serving up a bowl of olives. North Africa, during the recent troubles in Palestine, was not an easy place for a westerner to find comfort, but Petit Poucet was familiar territory: a good of a place as any for Jojo and I to discuss Realpolitik in relative peace.

I asked Jojo if he found any relation between 1914 and 2014.

Gavrilo Princip, Yugoslav Nationalist, assassinates Archduke Franz Ferdinand in 1914

Gavrilo Princip, Yugoslav Nationalist, assassinates Archduke Franz Ferdinand in 1914

Ja.” He responded mildly, sipping his Speciale Flag pilsner. “Damn pesky Slavs. They are always inciting conflagration at the forefront. Putin, Vladimir, he has Panslavic desires, uniting Ukraine and the Baltic States back with Russia. Poor Vladimir, deeply he laments the end of the USSR. He wants Russian hegemony over the former ‘Republics’ they lost in 1991. You know this word, ‘hegemony’? Is like political power.” Jojo demonstrated by grasping an olive with his non-beer hand and squeezing until extra virgin oil seeped through his fingers. “The Serbs, they are Southern Slav; in 1914, Serbian Anarchists, the Nationalists, they wish to get rid of Austrian Hegemony in the Balkans. In 1914, Serbs wanted greater Slav nation and supported Russia. In 1914, Russia wanted to drive wedge between Hapsburgs and their Slavic subjects. Panslavic unification.”

“Right.” I skipped into the jump rope. “Similarly, has not the West been occupied with driving a wedge between Russia and Ukraine? Getting Ukraine to join the EU and leave Putin’s Soviet Union behind? Are not Western Europe and America pissing in the face of the sleeping bear?”

Jojo grumbled, “Europe is pussies. Europe is indifferent, economically they need as much help as can get for European Union. America, yes with the pissing. Europe, no. The dominant country in EU is Deutschland. We Germans do not oppose the Russians. Since 1950s, we have policy of OustPolitik – we favor the East, German Chancellors have been pro-Russia. Germany does not provoke the bear. EU just needs Ukraine for economic gain.”

“Is it just America, then, provoking the bear? Perhaps the US is trying to drive an economic wedge between Germany and Russia.”

Jojo nodded meager acceptance, “Ja, perhaps. US of A, though, is currently performing ‘Eastern Pivot’ to Asia. Obama was not ready for Ukrainian situation. United States was caught by surprise as they are too focused on China. Now, is not an easy situation, Ukraine, Arab Spring… Secretary Clinton, Secretary Kerry, they are having to speak to events in Middle East and Eurasia, but they want to be looking to China.”

“The latest Malaysian Airline tragedy almost helps the west as it is entirely damaging to Putin’s regime in the Kremlin. Do you think it will be enough to turn Germany away from Russia?”

Vlad Putin inciting chaos in the Ukraine

Vlad Putin inciting chaos in the Ukraine

Jojo groaned his indecision. “Russia wants chaos in the Ukraine. If Russia cannot have the Ukraine, chaos is best. The Ukraine offers a buffer state and chaos allows Russia to control trade routes, oil routes, Panslavic unification of Russian ethnicity. Russia will not admit to wrong-doing and the rest of the world hesitates. Germany will say nothing. I speak earlier of Europe being pussies. Germany, we live with war guilt. We will use economic sanctions, ja, but to mobilize military as Japan is now doing, nein. This will not happen. Deutschland will be invaded before Germans commit to war again.”

“After the crash of MH17, the black boxes have been removed, the missile launchers hidden; there may not be enough evidence to determine who is ultimately responsible for the tragedy. Still, Russia directly or indirectly is to blame, but will anything actually change?”

“Some things change. Some things, not so much. Israel and Palestine – eventual ceasefire (temporary, as always). The Israelis will not want world calling them bad guys. Palestine will lose fervor for martyrdom. Russia and Ukraine – eventual de-escalation. Pro-Russia rebels will be forced to turn to politics, not guns. Once more peaceful, MH17 will be footnote. Syria and Iraq, there is no hoping. Strife will exist unless dominate power exerts force. Damascus and Baghdad, everything in between, will become dust and ash…that is, unless the Great Powers divide up the Middle East and run as fiefdoms; a far more pragmatic outcome, wouldn’t you say?”

This isn’t a wake-up call to the American people; this is just a wake held for the death of democracy…

I’m no idealist. Rule by the people is as only as strong as the people’s will to be just. Let’s face it; we’ve grown up into children trying to take as many blocks from the Kindergarten play-area as our chubby little t-rex claws can carry back to our isolated corner. We’ve become too rigidly stubborn and once our snotty noses get a whiff of the end of all we think is holy, we became outraged. Moderation-be-damned, we all became extremists and this polarity has tossed the globe into an unrecoverable wobble.

syria_civil_war_rebel_control_map_2013-08-22I speak not just of the United States; I speak of Humanity. Look at the Arab Spring – the people stand up against oppression and once the iron fists fall, extremism fills the power-vacuum. Venezuela and Thailand are in turmoil over transitions of power, but these games of thrones are to be expected. It’s the authoritative repression of uprisings in Syria and Ukraine that have become the new norm, coming to a town near you and likely to plunge us all into the next world war. The Militarized States of America and her Western Allies play democracy patron by arming Syrian rebels (or by allowing friends like Saudi Arabia to continue funding Sunni-extremist Al Qaeda to fight Syria’s Assad) while Russia assists the demagogues of Damascus (as Russian pet pit-bull Iran funds Shiite-extremist Hezbollah to defend Syria’s Assad). If you haven’t read up on your histories, such complicated strategic alliances at odds eventually trigger global war. As if alliances were not complicated enough, we have the China vs. the World over the South China Sea trade-routes where Japan, the Philippines and Australia are shoved aside or bought-out entirely.

Territorial-Claims-South-China-Sea-Map1Wars, of course, are fought over resources and no level of diplomacy can overcome that. The Petrol-Dollar is about to tank as Russian and Chinese oil baron oligarchies undermine the Anglo-dominance in black gold. Once the Artic melts in a couple days from now, war will certainly erupt over rights to drill the North Pole. What Bitcoin I haven’t lost to hackers I have been using to fund the legal fees for Green Peace’s Arctic pirates. Not that there is anything to be done to stop the inevitable.

There is an epidemic of American bankers committing suicide. It is 1929 all over again, yet unlike the days of “the crash”, today Wall Street seems strong. There is something rumbling under the surface you and I cannot see. What is it these dead bankers knew that drove them to jump (or to be tossed out the window)? A complete financial collapse? Some cosmic fear is driving Wall-Street mad with despair.

With war abroad and collapse within… What’s to be done?

What’s to be done when Iranian generals insist there are Hezbollah sleeper cells hanging out in America, just waiting for Israel to bomb Tehran before striking us where it hurts? These sleeper cells could be in the apartment next door, could be manning the Starbucks drive-thru, could be wearing a kilt and serving haggis out of a food truck. The American Police State hovers overhead domestically in their spy blimps, seeking out readings of radioactive isotopes, hoping to find the Jihadist nearest you.

sleeper cellsShould the sleeper cells erupt, or more likely, should a soon-to-be impoverished American populace rise up in protest, Homeland Security will be well prepared. The Security Agencies of the Fatherland recently purchased 1.6 billion rounds of ammunition, which is enough to fight a hot war (using Iraq bullet usage as a reference) for 20+ years. This is Homeland Security, not the Pentagon. Homeland Security, which compromises the Coast Guard, FEMA and the airport bouncers of the TSA. What do they need with 1.6 billion bullets?Frighteningly, many of these rounds are sniper bullets. Is this just the Military Industrial Compliance scratching its own back or is there a pending domestic threat to the Establishment around the corner?

What do we have in store? America will survive in her legacy of corporations, but will those corporations assist the people of America? No. As the domestic environment crumbles with the dollar, these international entities will pick up their right foot here and lean on their left foot firmly planted on the other side of the Pacific. We, the populace, will be left behind, a bunch of hungry bellies without a valuable dollar to consume. If you do not have job security with an international like Google or Lockheed Martin, then you are no more than a member of a vulnerable citizenry.

Pretty fucking bleak. Aye.

So again, what’s to be done? Fellow fear-mongers advocate guns, the more the better. Fuck that 18th century worn-out concept. Guns are nice for killing your neighbor, not overthrowing the Government. Of course, the survivalist prophet Cyrus Lee Hancock would argue, “I am not just arming myself against the New World Order, I am arming myself against the highwaymen who want to steal my gas, I am arming myself against the neighbor who covets my wife, I am arming myself against the creatures that rise out of the lagoon.” So what’s to be done? Find yourself a friend like Cyrus Lee Hancock; just don’t find yourself siphoning his gas or coveting his wife. Find yourself a government spook of a brother-in-law who has a shit-hit-the-fan reservation to the nuclear bunker under Cheyenne Mountain. Teach your children to use a crossbow and how to speak Mandarin. Find yourself some Apocalyptic church full of wacky Revelations nuts because they will likely be better prepared for the collapse than your Fantasy Football League. The solution is community. Build one, join one, make yourself useful to one.

spy blimps be damned...

spy blimps be damned…

Okay, enough writing drivel from my blimp-proof tub for now, I need to continue binge-watching House of Cards and praying the world lasts long enough for me to catch the finale to True Detective. I will have good beer and warm thoughts as I do, no sense wasting the good times while they’re around.

1/4/14

Vic in the Amazon

Vic in the Amazon

In the Amazon, I had a machete-artist of a trailblazer who spoke the language of birds. He would emit various guttural calls to macaws, egrets, toucans. Within moments, the winged & unseen voices would reply from their secretive nooks betwixt the jungle. I asked my Indian wife (a marriage of convenience, legally-binding only in Peru – mind you… and your sister, should she be so disposed) to ask my steadfast guide in their shared indigenous tongue what fowl message he was receiving from the birdfolk. Roberto would smile his gold-toothed smile at us and interpret the avian squawk. What do the birds say? “When comes the jaguar”.

Hmm, I contemplated whilst stroking the beard grown strictly to be stroked within contemplation. This was strange black magic fuckery, indeed!

Turkish Espresso: a looking glass into the future

Turkish Espresso: a looking glass into the future

In a gas-station outside Ankara, a Turkish woman divined my future by reading the sediment remaining in my coffee cup. I wish I could understand her Turkish like I understood the message I read in Chicago from a fortune cookie that told me to “Duck!” Tarot readers, Gypsy palmists and psychic mediums have all told me the same thing: my “dark and secretive nature” would bring me to ruin. Nice advice, but paranoia, like pregnant housekeepers, cannot be unscrewed.

My point, if there is to be one, is that prophecy surrounds us.

Fear prophets, Adso, and those prepared to die for the truth, for as a rule they make many others die with them, often before them, at times instead of them.

–Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose

I, Vic Neverman, however, am not a prophet. To read the ripples of a cannonball before it hits the water – this is prophecy. I, rather, am a futurist. A futurist sees the burning fuse of the cannon pointing out to sea and predicts a splash. No prophet, I am just a gambler. Albeit, a lousy gambler; my guestimate of 2013 events proves as much. Nevertheless, Never-the-Man, I am here to boldly pronounce what I – and you with all eventuality – expect to occur this year of 2014 in order of confidence.

Good old Nostradamus, he knew the whole damn time,
There’d always be an East from West and someone in the fight

– Modest Mouse, Education

1. The Downfall of Vladimir Putin

Aye, you might notice that this was my number 1 prediction for 2013 too. Keep the faith, my readership. This is a linear path, my dates are just off. Vlad’s stay of execution as Russian Premier is entirely because of the umpteen billions of dollars invested by the mafia state into this winter’s Sochi Olympics. To overthrow Vlad pre-Olympiad is bad for business.

In a fast-grab for good PR, Vladimir has pardoned some of his biggest foes, most notably oil magnate Mikhail Khodorkovsky and 66.6% of the imprisoned Pussy Riot (curious note – the other 33.3% that is Nadya Tolokonnikova hasn’t been seen (at least reported on) since she was shipped off to a Siberian work camp in November). This good press is rather transparent and will not save Vlad from an Olympic Games that are doomed. This week’s bombs in Volgograd are a bleak picture of the threat of sectarian terrorism within Russia. Even the Olympic Torch seems cursed.

Sochi 2014 - Vlad's greatest triumph or his undoing?

Sochi 2014 – Vlad’s greatest triumph or his undoing?

Vladimir Putin has never been as powerful as he is now, especially after playing the part of peaceful negotiator (fans of the prophetic visions of John the Revelator will find a similarity with the revelation of the anti-christ) in regards to Syria in 2013. Yet, as powerful as this villain has become I have read in the works about heretics, “the Devil mocks his familiars.” Has the devil ever possessed a more greed-infused pawn than the likes of Vlad Putin? Has a tyrant (other than that Hitler guy) ever stood before the world as host of his own Olympiad? Yes, the rising tower of Babel will crumble. If not this year, then surely in 2015.

2. Sushi-Bomb! Fukushima Renders Seafood Unpalatable

The Corporatized 4th Estate tends to only report stories in their own best interests, which is why we never heard about the recent overthrow of banks & government in Iceland and why we hear little news of the increasing nuke pollution threat out of Japan. Fukushima was apocalyptic bad and it has only gotten worse. By the end of 2014, any sushi you eat out of the Pacific may very well drop the mustache right off your face. Gulf of Mexican shrimp, while likely toxic, are far healthier by comparison. Oceanic fisheries are low and mercury is high. Sinbad’s 7 Seas are a sad state of affairs. So much for the Age of Aquarius. You should begin going to your favorite sushi restaurant with a Geiger counter.

3. Sriracha is Hottest Condiment Commodity of 2014

srirachaHeinz or Hunts or Kraft or Tobasco will buy out all of the Sriracha factories in the United States to incorporate into their own product line. If they do not, Sriracha will buy them in 2015. Yes, I know I am tragically known as the futurist who predicted that the eggroll in 2012 would overtake the taco as America’s favorite food… But Sriracha is for real.

4. Bitcoin stays Valuable despite Alternative Currencies to the Alternative Currency

There is the old adage, “if you can’t bury it in your backyard, does it really have a value?” Quite simply, yes. Bitcoin is not only a means for the darkest crevices of the cyber-world to transact business, it has an ingenious ceiling attached to its quantity. A limited supply always increases demand. The fact there is a program built in to limit the number of Bitcoins forever contributes greatly to its very value… And it will spawn off rival coinage similarly programmed.

5. Pope Francis brings many to the Faith, Pisses Off Others

The Argentine pope will bring plenty of new converts to the Catholic Church in 2014 and even win several unconverted back with his liberal stance on many of the longstanding dogmas of the papacy. His liberal approach, however, will offend many and lead to the spawning of heretical groups of orthodox (and perhaps ‘bigoted’) fanatics. They, secretly sponsored by the Establishment (or certain conservative parties within), will undermine Frank by attempting to tie him to scandal and hack into Vatican coffers. Pope Frank, however, will not be deterred despite being labeled a “heretic” by his antagonists. Fortunately, he will not ask Benedict to come out of retirement to jumpstart a new inquisition (though ‘Inquisitioner Ben’ could be a reality show to rival ‘Duck Dynasty’).

6. Negligence towards the Infrastructure leads to Mass Blackouts

A brutally chilling winter will lead to a desperately dry and hot summer. Air conditioners, refrigerators and cell phone chargers will trigger manageable brownouts across the country as the disintegrating web of our infrastructure fails to keep up. Eventually, however, systematic brownouts cannot control the increased demand and an epic blackout will sweep across the Northeast through the Midwest.  The old and young will perish, riots will erupt in marketplaces, sales of pools and fences will rise.

7. The Superbowl No One Went To

In order to finance the construction of the monstrosity of MetLife Stadium which supplanted the previous field that served as Jimmy Hoffa’s gravestone, a Superbowl event was granted to East Ruth, New Jersey. Not the less climactically hostile New Jersey of 20 years ago, but rather the New Jersey of tomorrow… I do not speak ill of New Jersey, mind you, only ill of tomorrow and any host city of the Superbowl north of Tampa that doesn’t put the game in a dome. The climate is changing, storms are becoming more violent and frequent in areas where such storms were once rare. In 2004, Florida was hit by 4 hurricanes in a single summer & there hasn’t been shit since. There is nothing rational about contemporary meteorology – weather patterns now resemble Rorschach ink blots used as gin & tonic coasters. This year’s Superbowl could very well exist in such dismal conditions that no one attends the bloody thing. As a result, the NFL will holographically impose half-naked fans in the stands so the watching American public assumes someone gives enough of a damn to attend the game.

8. All the Tea in China is Steamed over Latin American Waters

In their resource grab, China will buy Nicaragua’s Lake of similar name and Peru’s Lake Titicaca as a means to obtain most of the fresh lake water in Latin America. The former Mayor of Toronto does a line of blow and calls China to offer them the Great Lakes.

9. China’s Terrestrial and Lunar Conquests

China will lay claim to regions of the moon its Jade Rabbit is hopping around. In 2014, China will also own so much earth and precious minerals under Africa and Australia that the popular American restaurant Outback will begin serving eggrolls and will insist you eat their steak with one knife and one chopstick. Ehh, excuse this weak attempt at xenophobic comedy at the expense of the stark reality China will one day own everything.

10. Spy Blimps will Hoover over America

An oldie, but a goldie… I have been predicting this since 2011 and each year spy blimps become more and more a part of our vertical scenery as they scan the populace with their thermal and cyber imagery. You might toss away your cell phone in an attempt to hide from the grid & the NSA, but hope ye not! The multiple spy blimps overhead will train their audio equipment from a mile away and capture each of your ecstatic gasps of delight as you bugger your favorite inflatable so they might store such animal grunts in their bottomless pit of a mainframe.

Greetings Traveler.

an ale of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy

an ale of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy

If you are like me, you are wearing two-socks, feeling Autumnal and writing a blog post from the basement of the Tipsy’s Liquor World in Under Mountains, Colorado (pop. 2,419, give or take a Vic Neverman or 2). As I casually scan my frigid surroundings, I find I am dreadfully alone. Just me, a Led Zeppelin bootleg (of a bootleg of a Cadillac commercial playing Led Zeppelin) and the skull-eyed glance of a beer label hugging a pessimistically half-emptied bottle of ale. Given such personal isolation, I trust you are, indeed, not like me in which case you probably didn’t see this coming: the Quincunx of Calamity (amity, amity, amity…)!

Herein to be read at your own peril are five mysterious conspiracies and cover-ups that should be in today’s headlines. Well… at least four of the topics should be digested, the fifth is just for good measure and because “quatcunx” just doesn’t have the same ring to it as quincunx.

 Imprisoned Pussy Riot front woman has disappeared in Russian Prison System

 As Vlad Putin peacocks about his Sochi Olympic city that crept overnight out of the Black Sea like a beached Kraken diseased on corn syrup, one of his most impassioned antagonists has gone missing. In 2012, the chick band Pussy Riot stirred a commotion with their “Punk Prayer” at a Moscow Orthodox Church where they screamed for the Virgin Mary to rid Russia of Putin. Despite protests from the music community, Vlad at the bequest of the Orthodox Church imprisoned three of the key members of Pussy Riot.

Punk Prayer at Christ the Savior Cathedral, "Hail Mary! Expel Putin!"

Punk Prayer at Christ the Savior Cathedral, “Hail Mary! Expel Putin!”

Nadya Tolokonnikova is one of the most outspoken members of Pussy Riot. In protest of the slave camp conditions she has endured in the woman’s prison in Mordovia, Nadya went on a hunger strike. On October 21st she was moved, but no one knows where to. Her family (she is married and has a child) has no idea where she is. She is likely headed towards a Siberian gulag… at best. At worst, Vlad used her for crossbow practice or sold her off to be a part of some Sheik’s harem. This is the Russian totalitarian regime at its worst.

Click here to sign the petition (futile it may be) for Putin to provide answers to the whereabouts and well-being of the political prisoner.

Monsanto has killed the Honey Bees (Colony Collapse Disorder)

The bees are dying and I blame Monsanto. Perhaps you do not care much for jars of honey. Do you like almonds? 80% of the world’s almonds are grown in California, but after the great die-off, it would take 60% of the surviving bees in the United States to pollinate that crop alone. Whether you’re watching the prices for almonds, avocados or blueberries, the increase in cost is largely due to a mass die-off of bees.

“Monsanto is the devil.” An industry insider once told me as he drove me through Milwaukee. That was back in the good old days; recently, the same insider explained what scientists are not saying, “Monsanto tests these pesticides to gauge the environmental impact before releasing into the market. What they do not test for is what if we spray Agent Orange one year and then Agent Pink the next… it is the mixture of different pesticides that is creating a toxic environment that honey bees, let alone other organisms, cannot subsist in.” The honey bees have been dying off for years now and yet this has been highly overlooked by mass media. Why? Monsanto is a multinational corporation that bullies governments smaller than them and has their own puppet strings in the fourth estate. Monsanto is out to own all the food on earth by pushing their genetically modified seeds that are resistant to non-Monsanto pesticides. What is next for them? Either they create a crop-dust that can pollinate almonds or they start genetically modifying bees. Or they just let half of the world starve. Fucking dicks.

British Spy Found Dead and Locked in Zipped Bag, Officially Called Self-Inflicted “Accident”

In 2010, MI6 communications officer (code breaker) Gareth Williams was found dead in his English apartment. Not just dead, but dead and naked in a gym bag tossed in his bathtub that had been zipped up and locked. Think about this: he is in a zipped-up gym bag locked with a padlock. The coroner’s findings were that it was highly likely that something unlawful occurred. Yeah… No shit, Sherlock.

Yet the investigation was closed this week after it could not be absolutely determined that Gareth could not have padlocked himself into a zipped-up gym bag. Officially, it is an accident. I call bullshit. What the Brits are covering up in the death of one of their spies, I have no idea.

Who killed Arafat? Vlad “the Paler” Putin, that’s who

Yasser Arafat was a leader of the Palestinian people who won the Noble Peace Prize in 1994 for his efforts with the Oslo Accords to bring a calming peace to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Despite his efforts to make peace, undercurrents persist that it was the Israelis that killed Arafat in 2004 rather than a stroke from a blood disorder. This week, Palestinian Authority minister Habbash compared the assassination of Arafat to the poisoning of Prophet Muhammad’s meat by the Jews (Islamic hadith recalls theories on the death of the prophet). This was prompted by Al Jazeera’s report this week about a Swiss team of forensic scientists finding high traces of Polonium-210 in Arafat’s body.

Goodness me, could this be? Arafat’s widow certainly thinks so. But why would Israel want to extinguish the only person on the Palestine side of the fence that would compromise with them? The Palestinian prejudice against Israel is blinding them here. All they need to do is follow the stench of money. There is a team that contradicts the Swiss findings (right or not) and ironically, this is a team of Russian scientists. According to the BBC, the Russians found no polonium poisoning in Arafat.

Vlad Putin, Asshole Extraordinaire

Vlad Putin, Asshole Extraordinaire

“Where is the irony?” you might ask. Russia is a mafia state run by arms dealers with as much to lose in a peaceful Middle East as anybody (including us, U.S., the militarized states of America and our Military Industrial Complex). Curiously, Russia’s latest modus operandi in assassinations is death by radioactive poisoning. Just ask Alexander Litvinenko, the ex-KGB agent who found asylum in England and wrote books about false flag terrorism bringing Vladimir Putin into a position of power. In 2006, Litvinenko died from polonium induced acute radiation syndrome. Oh… just BTW, it was polonium-210.

Dolphin Bullying Frenzy may have Occurred in Media-Chummed Waters

Certainly, the reaction to the bullying allegations of Miami Dolphin Richie Incognito was overzealous. FACT: Incognito is a bully, he represents the dregs of humanity, but such dregs make for good football players. Sport economics provide thugs like Incognito with work. FACT: The sports organization put Incognito into a position of authority, which obviously shows the ineptitude of the Miami Dolphins organization. Bullies exist, bullies given leadership positions should not.

Here is a lesser-known FACT: the threatening phone conversation we’ve seen transcribed was missing an elemental send-off at the end. I shall paraphrase it here with the omitted closing underlined, “hey half-N piece of shit, I will shit in your mouth, slap your real mom, I will kill you, haha call me back.” The media feeds us a vile death threat out of context. In full context, the voicemail is still inappropriate, yet is more understandable as an exaggerated attempt at satiric correspondence. ESPN and the rest of sports media omitted the closing because “call me back” downplays the severity of the preceding comments. FACT: the Media used addition by subtraction (omission) to spin this story out of control.

It is too early to judge Incognito or Martin, but the organization and the media are certainly wrong in their actions. It is time for a sheriff to come in and clean up Miami. Enter Don Shula. In an effort to appease Dolphin fans nostalgic for the glorious 80s, Dolphins owner Stephen Ross has asked Don Shula and his team of Hall of Famers to form a commission to look into these locker room mishaps. This was the first good news I have heard since this locker room scandal was announced. Bring in Don “the Don” Shula. It is time for some accountability.

Shit is about to get REAL

Shit is about to get REAL

Rise of the Drones

Rise of the Drones

Fight or Flight? With drones buzzing overhead – how should you react? If you were (hypothetically, of course) a jihadist in Mali, Yemen or Miscellanistan, you’ve likely already considered your options as the American robo-pterodactyls circle above you like buzzards over an armadillo buffet at a Texas truck-stop. Drone evasion is an everyday occurrence for suspected terrorists abroad, which creates an interesting lab experiment: What defenses might the lab rat put up against the all-seeing eye of Big Robo-Brother? The lessons learned by our enemies over there may be of use for the common American facing the escalating police state here on American soil.

The Florida Senate passed a bill limiting drones in police surveillance operations and many other states are likely to follow. While that may be so, surveillance camera footage was crucial in capturing the Tsarnaev Brothers after the Boston Marathon incident. It is inevitable that drone usage will eventually be approved for all-out domestic surveillance and our civil rights will ever more become the sandcastle awaiting the rising tide of fascism.

Introducing the Mali Papers: when the French stormed into the Timbuktu headquarters of Al Qaeda, they uncovered the manual for drone evasion handed out to the various terrorist cretins that subscribe to that shit. Below are the first six of 22 lessons on drone evasion accompanied by Neverman advice on how we might apply the notes of these ass-clowns when attempting to preserve our own civil rights at home here in the US of A.

Al Qaeda Anti-Drone Tactics (1 – 6), courtesy of the Associated Press

1 – It is possible to know the intention and the mission of the drone by using the Russian-made “sky grabber” device to infiltrate the drone’s waves and the frequencies. The device is available in the market for $2,595 and the one who operates it should be a computer know-how.

Vic – Bullshit. “Sky-grabber”, really? Vlad “the paler impaler” Putin likely penned these rules himself to promote one of his RadioShack cronies.

Parking Violation

Parking Violation

2 – Using devices that broadcast frequencies or pack of frequencies to disconnect the contacts and confuse the frequencies used to control the drone. The Mujahideen have had successful experiments using the Russian-made “Racal.”

Vic – again, this reads like an add from Vladimir’s Secret Lingerie and Electronic Gizmo Catalogue. “To bring out the inner mujahideen in your partner, trying pairing your borscht-flavored candle with this double-headed meat thermometer.”

3 – Spreading the reflective pieces of glass on a car or on the roof of the building

Vic – perhaps there is something to this mirror stuff. What the Mali bad-guys might know that we domestics do not could be that each of our drones has a little Adonis in them. Perhaps every time a drone sees its reflection, it pauses long enough to admire its sleek stealthy figure and in doing so forgets its true purpose. This may be worth trying out – putting mirrors atop cars and baseball cap lids.

4 – Placing a group of skilled snipers to hunt the drone, especially the reconnaissance ones because they fly low, about six kilometers or less.

Vic – I do not advocate snipers. Not in my domestic surveillance scenario. Should Skynet go haywire and the drones start exterminating human kind, then I will come back and edit this blog post. Until then, keep the sniper rifles pointed down.

Hi There!

Hi There!

5 – Jamming of and confusing of electronic communication using the ordinary water-lifting dynamo fitted with a 30-meter copper pole.

Vic – what the hell is an “ordinary water-lifting dynamo”? Is this how plumbing works in Kandahar?

6 – Jamming of and confusing of electronic communication using old equipment and keeping them 24-hour running because of their strong frequencies and it is possible using simple ideas of deception of equipment to attract the electronic waves devices similar to that used by the Yugoslav army when they used the microwave (oven) in attracting and confusing the NATO missiles fitted with electromagnetic searching devices.

Vic – holy run-on sentence, Batman! I am jammed and confused just reading this advice. Old equipment running 24 hours – I imagine you could play Atari with the volume turned all the way up. Where can we get one of these Serbian microwave ovens that confuse NATO missiles? Not that I expect a NATO strike on my bayou bungalow anytime soon, but it wouldn’t hurt to have… especially if it keeps my nuggets warm.

Stay tuned for Domestic Drone Evasion: Advice from the Enemy (part 2: general confusion methods)

 

Neverman Recommended Attire for Evading Surveillance: Wide Brim Hat, Urban Camouflage and of course Beard

Neverman Recommended Attire for Evading Surveillance: Wide Brim Hat, Urban Camouflage and of course Beard

The intellectual forces of the workers and peasants are growing and getting stronger in their fight to overthrow the bourgeoisie and their accomplices, the educated classes, the lackeys of capital, who consider themselves the brains of the nation. In fact they are not its brains but its shit.

– Vladimir Lenin

We shall fight against them, throw them in prisons and destroy them.

― Vladimir Putin

Vlad's new BFFF (best franco-friend forever), Gerard Depardieu

Vlad’s new BFFF (best franco-friend forever), Gerard Depardieu

As if mocking the Cold War of yester-century, the ever-expanding French Actor Gerard Depardieu has defected from the socialist state of his origin to the capitalist comforts of Russia, leaving an exorbitant income tax of 75% to one of 11%. He was welcome into the Bear’s embrace by the Cold War veteran and Russian Premier, Vladimir Putin. While Russia has been prosperous of late and while the Mafia State may very well rule into the next century, Gerard should be wary of becoming too chummy with Vladimir as Putin’s days are numbered.

Russia is a kleptocracy, ruled by thieves with such systemic corruption it makes a prostituted nun selling a hotdog to a lipless pig charming by comparison. It is estimated in 2005 20% of Russia’s Gross Domestic Product was bribes. If Gerard was looking for pure unadulterated capitalism, he found it in Moscow.

Yet, Putin promises change. In a transparent gesture of good intention, Vlad has declared war on corruption. His “purge” shall rid Mother Russia of the vultures nipping at her teat once and for all. This gesture is absolute gobshite, of course, for Putin is the Machiavellian Prince of Thieves, having embezzled a billion dollars out of the hands of the Russian citizenry. This hollow gesture of ridding the Mafia State of its impurities may seem more ironic than malignant, but it shall be Vladimir Putin’s complete undoing.

Pimp versus Pimp

Pimp versus Pimp

Far from the frost-bitten foundation of the Kremlin, I, Vic Neverman, met with my brain-trust beneath the condominium high rises of Orlando, Florida to discuss the events leading to Vlad “the paler” Putin’s certain decline. As the tropical rains beat down any semblance of winter in the January night, I described my prognostication to Jack McCastle, international financial mastermind and bourbon aficionado. My thoughts are this: Russia is held together by an entangled web of deception, with every debauched cornerstone balanced upon a capstone of some other deceit. When Putin corrals some low caste criminal as his corrupt scapegoat, the ripple it will create within the web will be far-reaching. Those minor players will snitch and barter to save their own skin, spreading the cancer of suspicion & accusation until Russia becomes a State of Paranoia not seen since the Gulags of the Soviet Empire. Neighbor fighting neighbor, millionaire pimp versus millionaire pimp, billionaire technocrat against billionaire technocrat, the Russian countryside will become enflamed with internal strife. Each bastardized nobleman – Oil Barons, Lords of War, Dukes of the Adoption/Orphanage Racket, White Slavery Queens, SPAM Kings and Cyber Security Clergy – will look to put an end to the witch-hunt, an end that can only occur by cutting the head off of the snake. When the ripple effect invades the shores of Putin’s power brokers, his days are up. His allies will turn against him and Vladimir Putin will become the sacrificial goat, exiled to his Siberian hunting camp with his Franco-pal Depardieu.

It won’t be easy. This isn’t the classic Red vs. White of the Revolution. Vladimir Putin has his tentacles in everything – he is both old school and new school. He is a Soviet-born cretin, a monster of an authoritative police state. He is also a post-modern playboy, a media attention whore with a flair for voyeurism. Little by little, though, the Establishment of the Mafia State will begin snipping away at his tentacles, one clip at a time, until Vladimir Putin is reduced to a flailing Octopus.

Putin and his tentacles

Putin and his tentacles

Vlad’s absolute power has made him top-heavy. His fall will come and it will come hard.

Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.

― Søren Kierkegaard

Friends, Paranoids, Countrymen, lend me your ear… I come to bury 2012, not to praise it. I speak to you now not to relish this year’s numerous personal victories or weep over dearly departed milk, spilt from the cereal bowl of the disenchanted dreamer. No! I am here, at the twilight of this year, for one purpose only – to review my 2012 predictions. I do so ascending from the embers of Hades as my own Devil’s Advocate with a callous and critical forked tongue. As a trend-analyzing futurist, I am held accountable for my predictions; I am not some haphazard weather man pointing the direction of the wind like an iron rooster atop your barn. You, dear reader, deserve to have my words tested over the hot coals of hindsight. Well, the grades are in… And the truth is: I fucking nailed it!

Here it is, my 2012 predictions regurgitated from my 12/18/2011 blog post. Also included, on a scale of 0-10 is how hard I nailed this particular prophecy.

1 – “The Mayan Calendar date that is approximately 12/21/2012 …will not bring the end of the world.”

On an accuracy scale of 0-10, I scored a perfect 10. The Maya date of significance came and went. The world continues to turn without so much as a wobble. The Apocalypto aftermath, however, did draw an end to my social calendar. As you, fellow traveler, likely already know I became something of a celebrity in the latter half of this year thanks to a local magazine’s article on adventure racing featuring non-other than Vic Neverman. My social status brought some fame amongst Central Florida’s doomsday prep crowd and I spent many nights at speaking engagements, feasting on free meals prepared by my host/hostess. At a 12/22/2012 post-apocalypse party, my Gratis status soon became Non Grata due to my possessing an anti-social behavior more befitting a baboon than a privileged member of civilization. I have now returned to being shunned by society. Which is fine, I am more comfortable here anyhow.

2 – “…the spiced fowl appendages we have all been eating at Buffalo Wild Wings come from the genetic freak of a six-winged chicken engineered by those Frankensteinian mad scientists at Mansanto, evil motherfuckers they are.”

Score of 9. “Monsanto is the devil”  My agricultural industry insider, M. Von Love told me. Our ability to feed the world has grown leaps and bounds thanks to innovation in the science of managing fields and the technology of machines. Monsanto’s monopoly on seeds and proliferation of pesticide, however, is crippling all gains by slowly killing the world’s populace. Monsanto is not out to cure hunger, It is out to control the world’s food supply. This prediction would have been a perfect score, but the Washington Post never went public with their exposé.

3 – “Occupy the Democratic National Convention’ will be infiltrated by agent provocateurs”

Score of 10. Sometimes predictions can be so powerful, they undermine the very event they attempt to forecast. In this case, instead of risk being ripped apart by agents provocateur, the Occupy Movement simply agreed to become bored with it all and disintegrate. The thing about revolution is that it is a bitch.

4 – “2011 was the year of the drone… 2012 will be the year of the spy blimp.”

Score of 10. Drones were still prevalent in 2012, sure. And stealth helicopters stole headlines after the bin Laden raid in Pakistan, but who can deny the sudden omnipresence of blimps watching us all from above? To quote an anonymous bathroom stall poet, “Privacy is dead. And death is the only chance for quality alone time.”

5 – “Vlad Putin will win the Presidency of Russia”

Score of 10. I wish I were wrong on this one. If I had been wrong, Russia wouldn’t have cock-blocked us in Syria and Pussy Riot would still have their freedom and obscurity.

6 – “By 2020, 80% of our fastfood nutrition will be hidden inside of an egg roll.”

Score of 10. Not only are egg rolls, and their tasteless spring cousins, now a fixture in Americana cuisine, the Chinese have secured all the rare mineral rights in Africa and Australia, ensuring only they and Monsanto will be the global super powers in 2050.

7 – “Illegal phone applications will utilize facial recognition software”

Score of 10. Again, sometimes predictions can have such an impact on the future as to dismantle it. My paranoid ravings about cell phone applications have started petitions against social networking sites to ensure this new technology will not be released onto the public. By my being so goddamned accurate, I prevented this horrid future from actually occurring. Yet.

8 – Robots will take the place of TSA agents, romantic companions, line cooks and pets.

Score of 10. While I haven’t necessarily had my cavities explored by a metallic TSA agent or robo-gyrl, it is really just a question of expense. Think about it – 20 years ago, we could have all had mobile phones and home computers, but it was cost prohibitive. In another 3 or 4 years of cost-reducing innovation, most of my carnal delights will likely be provided by the delicate skill of my pocket automaton, Lucy.

9 – “WikiLeaks will reveal President Eisenhower met with the Emperor of the Greys (those almond-eyed, naked, grey-skinned aliens) and made a peace treaty stipulating an allowance for alien harvesting and testing of human subjects and livestock.”

Score of 9. I do not necessarily hear anyone claiming this to not be true. The deduction of the one point, like the Buffalo Wild Wing prediction, is simply due to the failure of the 4th Estate to reveal this truth.

10 – “It will be learned the Vic Neverman blog was nothing more than a Stuxnet cyber-worm burrowing into your computer and creating random gibberish upon your screen in order to keep you from creating your own nuclear weapon arsenal.”

Score of 10. Of course…

For a final tally of 98! That’s an A+ in my book. Good job, Vic, and a Happy New Year to All!

BONUS ROUND:

Interesting 2010 predictions made by Vic Neverman for 2011

-The NeverBrother-in-Law will attempt to frame Vic. This actually did happen in 2012.

https://vicneverman.wordpress.com/2012/04/15/transamericana-the-shamrock-shakedown-or-why-florida-is-psycho-meatloaf/

-Osama bin Laden will be found in New Jersey. In 2012, he was actually found in Pakistan.

-China will use its weather devices to send more hurricanes to make landfall in unexpected American locations. This didn’t occur in 2011, because as I said at the time, the United States countered with our own weather manipulation technology. In 2012, however, Super Storm Sandy hit New York City just prior to the Presidential Election.

Democracy is four wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch.

― Ambrose Bierce

Bayou Saint Basil, one hour from Tampa, FL (depending on traffic)

The acreage I am surrounded by is pure jungle and gator-infested swamp. The air is alive with the screeching of insectual horde, crickets or locusts or some other exoskeletal shit-eater, all of whom found the same cacophonic pitch right at dusk and have been screaming away ever since. This is home. This is real Florida.

I have been residing in this bayou bungalow ever since the Governor’s voter purge threatened to take away my voter rights for having travelled to three or more communist countries (of which, I will admit Vietnam and Cuba qualify – but Canada?). Rather than suffer the possible purge of Rick Scott (who also appears to be coaching the Miami Dolphin football team), I came here to conserve what rights I have left.

“Who wants shrimp!?!” Nixon, perhaps at the ’72 Ice Gala

Very near Bayou St Bas is Tampa, Florida, where the Republican National Conventioneers are preparing for the greatest GOP party since Nixon’s Shrimp Cocktail on Ice Gala of ‘72, an event so scandalous the press nicknamed it Watergate-Gate. Despite the eager anticipation of the upcoming convention in Tampa, there is an underlying anxiety. Even as the shrimp and strippers are bussed in by the tonnage, there is an uneasy anticipation of the threats creeping along the dark and murky waters of the Gulf of Mexico: the impending path of Hurricane Isaac and the lurking Soviet Akula-class nuclear submarine.

Sure, all of the cable news networks are talking about Isaac and the threat it poses to overflow Tampa’s Bay, but there are few, if any, murmurs on television about Ivan and the Russian sailors refueling at the sunken Deepwater Horizon. According to “reports”, Russian Premier Vlad “the paler” Putin has had one of his nuke-killer submarines patrolling Gulf of Mexican shores for most of this summer – all without being detected by the US Navy’s satellites, anti-sub patrols and laser-equipped dolphins. The Akula class submarines were built to silently hunt and sink American subs, qualifying it for all sorts of devious tasks along our domestic shoreline. This story may have not reached mass-media, but it has definitely floated to the surface in the hallways of RNC HQ in Tampa.

Akula class submarine… perhaps off the coast of Sarasota?

Texas Republican Senator John Cornyn has written a letter to the Chief of Naval Operations demanding an explanation, mentioning in his letter that such events are especially troubling given the military cutbacks of President Obama. The Navy, last I checked, never bothered responding. In fact, many are ignoring the reports, possibly because they came from the Washington Free Beacon (not to be confused with Washington Free Bacon, which does not exist regardless of what the lobbyist is telling you), a blog-site specializing in propagandizing hawkish budgets. When the Houston Chronicle asked Pentagon spokes-sailor, Lt Commander John Fage, he didn’t grant the Free Beacon any credibility, “We are aware of the reporting but we see nothing to indicate it is true.”

Could all this be a carefully orchestrated ruse meant to humiliate the US Navy and Obama’s budget cut proposals? Yes, according to my blog source for all things Lesbian, Lez Get Real. Lisa Carbonell finished her blog with an interesting remark, “We are left with dumb, stupid question of the week about this: if the sub went undetected by our Navy for two whole months, how did the Free Beacon find out about it?”

http://lezgetreal.com/2012/08/the-russians-are-coming-the-russians-are-coming/

Vlad “the Paler” Putin on a Horse

Of course, there is the possibility that the Russian thug, Putin, is mocking the RNC safety exercises put into motion last spring by sending one of his stealthy subs to wink it’s periscope at the vulnerable bitch that is Tampa Bay. If this is possibly the case, should we even be worried? Chicago Tribune blogger Steve Chapman notes the inferiority of the Russian Navy – we out number their ships 2,384 to 233.

http://articles.chicagotribune.com/2012-08-22/news/chi-russian-sub-dubious-danger-20120822_1_russian-subs-russian-navy-aircraft-carriers

While Putin can puff out his chest for the camera, doing so by swimming his subs off of Clearwater would be no more than the act of an underwhelming/overmatched bully. Pick on someone your own size, Vlad, like chick punk rockers.

Perhaps, then, we can dispel with the rumors of one antagonist along the Gulf Coast and focus on the remainder: Hurricane Isaac. Fortunately for me, and for you for that matter, I am a professional hurricane preparedness specialist. I may not have any particular training beyond a rescue diver certification and years of pizza delivery experience in monsoonal climates, but I do intend to make money off of my skills, thus I am a professional. Which… kinda sounds valid.

Hurricane Isaac, the uninvited guest to the RNC

But enough of the small talk! My right-wing conspiracy theorist partner-in-crime, Cyrus Lee Hancock and I will be travelling middle Florida this weekend in anticipation of Isaac and the convention goers. We will be encouraging the peopled streets to hunker down with lots of snacks. We will be interviewing the gaggles of prostitutes gathered for the RNC to determine their overall storm preparedness. We will be preaching virtues of post-cataclysm survivalness, like being able to cook a rabid raccoon, finding clean sources of water and polygamy. (Wait… what? I swear this note is not in my hand-writing). And, damn it, we might just save a life or three in the process.

Once the storm passes, we (“we” being Cyrus Lee, your humble navigator Vic Neverman and the lady conspiracy cadet Bo Lynn Belle) are heading west to the Rocky Mountains for Labor Day revelry of such unnecessary and unnatural dimension something of its like has not been seen since, ironically, the Nixon Shrimp Cocktail on Ice Gala of ’72.